The Birth of an Assassin
by Lilisu
Summary: Everything started with whispers. Oh! Nothing serious, he could even ignore them while having no difficulty following discussion. The only problem is that no one else could hear it. UA, Dark!Ed, Deathfic.


_Hello everyone! _

_If you do not like violence and that sort of thing, do not read on. If you love the sweet little Ed who always helps his neighbor, do not read this fiction. If you like the heroes, do not read this fiction. Sensitive souls refrain. You have been warned. _

_Here is the English version of my fanfiction "Naissance d'un Assassin", that was originally in French. The translation was corrected by __**EvilKitten **__(and no, I'm not a perfect bilingual. I'm Belgian and proud of it), so I would like to thank her for her work. ^^_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**The Birth of an Assassin**

Everything started with whispers.

Oh! Nothing serious, he could even ignore them while having no difficulty following discussion. The only problem is that no one else could hear it.

* * *

Edward Elric was fifteen and was beautiful enough to die for. With others not knowing anything about the influence he had on women, and sometimes men, he used this natural gift as a weapon to get what he wanted. Not that he wanted much, but it was still enjoyable even to possess such power, such ... magnetism.

In general, he refrained himself, because his father had reprimanded him dryly, explaining that forcing people to do things was wrong. Thus, he avoided it. He did not want his father to hate him.

That morning, he got up as usual and looked at himself in the mirror. A young man with blond hair and unreal deep golden eyes smiled slyly and gave him a wink. Edward therefore put on his clothing and left his room.

"Dad! I'm going out!"

"Be careful!" replied his father from the kitchen.

The blond left the family home, which actually was more of a manor rather than a house. They were rich, what with the thriving business of his father, Hohenheim, and his gifts for alchemy. Oddly, although he had always been interested in it, Edward had the greatest difficulty in transmuting anything. It was as if something was blocking him.

As for his father, he was a skillful scientist who studied some strange and unknown things in the shadow of his studio. He had always forbidden his son to go there, saying it was "dangerous."

Edward hoped that this was research to increase their wealth. He had never dared to ask his father about it for fear of receiving a correction, because only Hohenheim was immune against Edward's attraction.

The young man crossed the street and went to his favorite park, the one where he visited a few times to increase his conquests, whether male or female. He sat on a bench and pulled out a book from his pocket, adopting the strategy of "_I am a modest and mysterious student and want to conquer me no matter what_". A few people stopped in front of him, but nothing interesting. One had buckteeth and her fiancé had a harelip. Not for him. Time passed without any nice people approaching, which only increased his excitement. Half an hour after his arrival, the park was almost empty. After all, the men were at work, women at home to take care of the babies, and children at school. He – gifted – left the college at the head of his class and decided to take a year for himself before considering his future. His father was not opposed to the idea and he was much happier as well.

He was about to leave when shouts rang out. About fifty yards away was a bum who was being attacked by a rabid dog. He was kicking the beast, but it refused to back off. Edward approached, wondering what to do. He seriously thought of helping the old man who was begging him to do something, but a strange thing held him.

'_Why should you help at all? It will be one useless fool less on this planet_,' then said a voice in his ear.

Edward turned in all directions, but saw no one.

"Who said that?"

Finding no one, he turned to the old man. The dog tried to take him by the throat, which would mean no doubt the death of the tramp. He stepped forward again.

"_Why are you involved? You could get attacked too!" _said the voice.

He still saw no one. Had he gone mad?

"_Stay here, safe, and watch. If the old man dies, he is too weak to survive in this world, unlike you, which makes the distinction between courage and stupidity."_

Attempting to locate the speaker, the boy finally listened to the advice he was given. He watched the dog calmly kill the tramp and even patted the back of the animal when it passed him without seeing him.

He gave a slight kick to the body and walked away without a backward glance.

"An old beggar was found dead in the park next to the house, attacked by a wild beast," announced Hohenheim, upon seeing his son that evening.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, it's crazy! But thinking about it, isn't that the park where you spend your time?"

"Yeah."

"Did you see anything?"

"Not. I wasn't there today."

Hohenheim stared at him uncomfortably, probably because of his indifferent attitude.

"And what did you do today?"

"Well, I was at the library and at the academy to spy on the alchemy course. I went out for dinner with a girl. What was her name…"

"Edward," growled his father. "When will you stop going out with all those women you meet?"

"But I don't just date any women I see!" Edward replied in an offended tone.

A glimmer of hope crossed the eyes of the older man.

"Sometimes, I also go out with the _men_ I see," Edward corrected with a treacherous smile.

Hohenheim looked up at the sky.

"Hopeless. My son is a Don Juan without heart!"

"If I didn't have a heart, I couldn't love you, Dad."

* * *

Lying in bed, Edward thought about what had happened to him. It was inconceivable that a voice would not belong to anyone! Someone had been hiding behind a tree at that time and he hadn't seen them, that's all. The amazing thing was the absence of resistance he had shown. Normally he wasn't so easy to manipulate… And about the old man, he didn't regret letting him die.

"_You did well."_

Edward sat up.

"Who's there?"

He fumbled for the gun that never left his bedside table.

"_Don't worry; I'm a friend_."

"A friend, really? And where are you, 'friend'?"

"_Everywhere and nowhere_," the voice replied evasively.

"Earlier– that was you, right?

"_Indeed."_

"Why did you say those things to me?"

"_Because you were about to make a big, big mistake. If you had intervened, that dog would have torn your throat open. Believe me, it's difficult to seduce someone when you're dead."_

Edward chuckled aloud.

"That makes sense! I don't know who you are, but I think we'll get along…"

"_Sure!"_

* * *

Edward, in a good mood without knowing why, left home the next morning. The previous night, he had a strange dream, where there was a voice that told itself his friend. It had to be a dream, right?

When he crossed paths with a man on the sidewalk, the voice sounded again.

"_Go to the Library."_

He stopped and stepped in front of the other man.

"What did you say?"

"Me? Nothing!"

"But… Have you heard anything? At the moment… someone said…"

The walker looked amazed and he went his way.

Edward continued to question instead.

"_Go to the library_," the voice repeated.

"What? Why?"

"_There's something that should please you…"_

"…"

"_What?"_

"Am I crazy?"

"_Maybe."_

At the library, a crowd had gathered and was shouting. Excitement and fear ran through the blond.

He slipped between the people and saw, in the middle of the crowd, two men engaged in a fistfight.

"And what am I supposed to do here?" he wondered aloud.

"_Enjoy the show._"

One of the men reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade knife. The other did not have time to dodge the blade and was stabbed in the heart under the roar of the crowd. Edward could not help feeling the fascination at the sight of blood that was soon to stain the sidewalk.

"_Then, you enjoyed it?"_

"…I think… But why?"

"_Because you're like that, and you can't help it. But don't worry, I understand you perfectly. You're doing nothing wrong just by looking. It's not like you had this moron stabbed or murdered the old man, after all."_

"…Yes, it's true. It's not my fault if they are weak."

"_Not at all."_

Days passed with incredible speed and Edward, without daring to admit it to anyone but his mysterious advisor, was playing like crazy to observe human self-destruction.

The more time passed, the more he changed. Inveterate seducer, he became complicit in a dozen murders and was present as a spectator at some accidents that he had liked, to the delight of his benefactor, who still refused to give his name. He seemed to share his emotions and thoughts without embarrassing the young man. He always knew what he was thinking and appeared to provide him some short-term events. As the days went by, Edward blindly followed what the voice said and drew so much pleasure that he could not do without it.

One night, turning a slightly darker and narrower than other streets, his new friend took him to a new kind of show. Indeed, an old pervert trying to rape a pretty cute girl stood against a wall of gray and dirty bricks. At this sight, a strange warmth blossomed inside him, making him forget where he was. He stepped forward again.

"_What are you doing?" _the voice asked. "_You gonna help this girl? Back, it's useless for you to interfere, you can take advantage of where you are."_

"I can't let that happen…"

It was the first time he disobeyed. He approached the scene and met the pleading eyes of the girl.

"_Edward, don't do that!"_

"Please, help me!" wailed the girl.

The rapist saw him and attacked him. Edward then walked around easily, and broke his neck, killing him instantly. The girl gasped.

"Oh, thank you… you saved my life! That guy was–!"

Edward gave a kick in the dead carcass and turned to the girl.

"_Ed, you're disappointing me._ _You could have so much fun if you had done nothing_…" the voice sighed.

"I can enjoy myself some more!" sneered the blond to the astonishment of the young girl.

He struck her in the face and finished stripping her, scratching her skin at the same time.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Sorry, but I couldn't let such a motherfucker steal your virginity in my place …"

Edward snarled like a wild animal as it kills an antelope.

He bit the skin of her neck to mark and ran through his body with one hand while the other held the victim's arms above her head against the wall.

"_I understand that you wanted, now!"_ sneered the voice, overjoyed.

Edward opened his fly quickly and lowered his pants, which fell to the ground just before his underwear. The girl screamed in terror, but he covered her lips and ran inside of her thighs with his erect sex, deaf to her moans. Finally, he put his hand on what he craved and was about to violate. Despite it, the girl felt pleasure, which filled him with an unhealthy joy. Without bothering to take it gently, he positioned himself against the opening and entered at once in the warmth and softness of the girl's body.

The feeling was such that he almost lost his footing. The girl, meanwhile, was torn between pleasure and pain.

With the encouragement of the voice, he sank to the hilt in this welcoming and pulled away before starting to enter the cave.

"Go back to better jump" seemed to be in circumstances.

He amused himself and satisfied his desire and to move away in a burst of masochism to the point of no return. He could not contain himself and remained the abyss opening before him to expel his burning seed, which caused a slight dizziness to his victim. He knocked her again and began a new movement, half satisfied with the work already done. He stepped back and sank a jerk, snapping their skin against each other with force. Sex was really an exciting thing, he thought then. When he reached the end of his drive, he had to go back and get closer, which never failed to annoy his pleasure, which became almost non-existent at this time. He then had to approach more for that desire reaches its peak and the door to orgasm as expected… this cycle was delightful, really. When a quarter of an hour later, he retired, a bloodstain was formed at the feet of his victim, evidence he had to snatch a very important thing. He looked with contempt the girl cowering on the floor and wondered aloud:

"Well, what am I going to do with you now?"

"_Kill her, it will be safer."_

"Do you think so? It's dark. She couldn't recognize me even if I crossed the street in front of her."

"_Don't take risks. Get rid of her."_

"As you wish."

Edward grabbed the victim's chin, looked her face one last time and broke her neck cleanly.

_"I know a place where we can bury them safely…"_

"Where?"

".._.In the mass grave."_

Thus he found himself digging a hole in the middle of the night to throw the two corpses. He pushed up the vice lay hands of the evil man on the chest of the girl, which made his new friend laugh. Then he went back to the house listening to the voice that spoke in his ear.

* * *

A few weeks went by. Edward was no longer happy to watch, he had to act. It was like a vital need for him. The Voice grew there also welcoming the masterpieces of barbarism he operated. It was after a good thirty murders and other crimes that he could finally put a face to his companion. This happened one evening in his room as he was about to fall asleep. As he closed his eyes, he saw a slim figure sitting on the edge of his bed. He quickly straightened.

"Good evening, Edward," said the unknown one quietly.

He was a handsome young man with an androgynous appearance. His face was so pale that it shone in the light of the moon and was framed by thin, long black locks held by a dark band. His violet eyes with slit vertical pupils glowed in the dark and he quietly contemplated the blond while his long white fingers triturated his tight black clothes.

"Is that… you?" asked Edward.

"It's me. Glad to see me?"

"Sure! But how is it that I see you just now?"

"Well, I am only the fruit of your imagination. I'm kind of face you associate unconsciously my voice, I don't really exist."

Edward reached out to touch his chest and raised his eyebrows when he saw it passing through it as if there was only emptiness.

"I can't touch you," he complained with a tortured voice.

"I only exist in you, I'm not real. You can only see and hear me, because I am literally part of you."

"But… how?"

"It's a bit complicated to explain. You see, when you were born, something made that I ended up in you."

"And before that, you were a normal person?"

"Yes, sort of."

"What's your name?"

"Envy."

Edward repeated the name softly. Yes, only a name as meaningful "Envy" could be a fit to him.

"Does your presence have something to do with the fact that I can't use alchemy?"

"I'm afraid so, yes."

"And there's no way for you to get out? To have a real body?"

"No, there isn't."

Envy looked really sorry for him. He cast his ghostly hand over Edward's skin, as if he longed to touch him, before returning to his cheek.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop talking to you, if you prefer."

"No! Please! You're the only interesting person here! Don't leave me alone with them!"

Envy had an imperceptible smile and put his palm against that of Edward, taking care not to go through. By paying attention, they almost like touching.

"What are you, exactly?"

"In the scientific field, you would call me 'entity of unknown origin'."

"It's a little vague," mumbled Ed.

"In Alchemy, you would no doubt give me the name of "Homunculus". That's how we call anything that is not human, but looks like it. Yes, it is probably the name that defines me best."

"You gutters, it sounds like you're a monster! I prefer Envy. That is what defines you best! This will be your race, because you're not really human!"

Envy smiled broadly and ran his fingers through the hair of his friend. He winced when he found himself stuck in the pillow arms.

* * *

Hohenheim was sure his son was involved in the wave of murders that struck the city. Thirty disappearances and killings, it was a bit much for only twenty days. In addition, Edward was weird these days. He no longer spoke of his conquests (he never thought seeing it happen could reassure him one day), he looked happier than ever and came back home very late in the evening. Sometimes, he even spent the night outside. When he tried to talk to him, to ask him what was going on, Edward replied evasively and got out of the house to another of his nights out. Van Hohenheim was afraid. What happened to his son?

One night he decided to follow him. He hid in the shadows of the houses and watched Edward from afar. He saw him talking to himself, letting silence, as though talking to a being that only he could see and hear.

What are we doing tonight? …Really? Rather like two days ago… what? …You think? …Of course, it always pleases me! …Really? Interesting!"

Hohenheim attending this strange spectacle with growing confidence that his only son had gone completely mad. If his poor mother saw him!

He followed Edward, who seemed to know exactly where he was going, and saw him with amazement attacking a drunk bourgeois. He grabbed his cane and hit him in the back with a sound that suggested the violence of his repeated attacks. Then, when the gentleman was on the ground, he sat astride his chest while continuing to talk to himself. The man drew a small knife previously hidden in the folds of his jacket, but Edward disarmed with lightning speed that seemed out of place in an ordinary boy as quiet and peaceful. The blond admired a moment the blade and plunged it into the stomach of the poor man, who let out a gasp of pain mixed with anguish. Hohenheim, petrified with horror and fascination stunned, estimated the length of the agony in about ten minutes. No doubt Edward was that killer who hurt his victims before the end. In addition, with his uncommon intelligence and knowledge of biology, he knew better than anyone what issues to address.

While he urged his legs to move, Hohenheim saw his beloved son pulling out the nails of the drunkard, bursting into a long laugh; a laugh that was not his and that covered the screams of the other which was soon to vanish, much good it does.

Hohenheim then understood why his body refused to move. It was not his son. It was a wild animal caught in the thrill of hunting and the smell of death and blood. A beast that was unwise to approach at this time failing to finish as his prey, battered and tormented.

Van Hohenheim took enough control over himself to be able to escape, pursued by the laughing hyena that he had raised for fifteen years.

**Flashback **

Hohenheim wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at his wife, his beloved Trisha. He admired the tired smile blooming on the pale face of the young woman when he handed her the baby she had given birth.

"Edward," she announced in a tiny voice.

Suddenly her face changed and she spat a stream of blood when taking the child.

"Trisha! Darling, do you hear me?"

"Yes…"

"I'll call the doctor, I'll be right back!"

"No," Trisha whispered, weakly grabbing his sleeve. "Look at Edward, he… he's barely breathing! He's going to die..."

Indeed, the newborn remained inert in the arms of Trisha. His little chest was heaving with pain and did not feel a trickle of air out of his nose.

"Dr. Will won't come in time, you have to do something…" Trisha continued.

She had given birth at home, assisted by her husband, who, with his experience, had supported the best he could, unable to bring himself to leave her to get help. This lasted for hours and Trisha had suffered much. That's why his voice seemed to go off at any moment. Her eyes closed and she trembled, still carrying Edward.

"Trisha! Stay with me, I beg you! I need you!" Hohenheim screamed like never before. "Edward needs you! Don't leave us!"

"…Save …him…" Trisha sighed before going to sleep forever.

"TRISHA! NO!"

Hohenheim, shattered, fell next to his wife. He stroked her long brown hair and felt the tears burning his eyes. Then his eyes fell on Edward, who was finding it more and more difficult to stay alive. He could not let him die too. The man got up and ran into his studio, where he kept all the weird things he found. He returned in haste a drawer and pulled out a bottle filled with a red, neither liquid nor solid thing. According to the man who had given him before he died in a charity hospital, this was the Philosopher's Stone, whose existence had always been questioned and reduced to the status of legend. Hohenheim had not had much time to experiment, but if the legend was true, this stone had the power to give life. It was too late for his wife, but he still had a small chance to fulfill the last wish of Trisha. He rushed to the chair and uncapped the bottle without really knowing how. He knocked it on Edward's belly, and the time it takes a decision, the Stone was introduced magically into the opening through the umbilical cord freshly cut. Red flashes then gushed from the body of the baby, who uttered a horrible wail that pierced his eardrums. Fearing for the life of his son, Hohenheim wondered if he had not done something very stupid and looked helplessly at Edward's writhing. Then everything calmed down and, for a miracle that only God could explain, the toddler began to breathe vigorously, as if he had never gone to the brink of death.

Subsequently, after mourning for his wife, Hohenheim educated his son as best he could. He noted several amazing things. For example, Edward healed very quickly, even for the most serious injuries. He had developed a remarkable and a scary charisma address, but after all, a miraculous Stone had given him life, so what if… Edward was immortal? He became a funny creature, as an evolution of mankind, well being above them, mortals…

**End of flashback**

And now he had become a monster. Destiny was a horrible thing. It had taken his wife and given him a monster instead of his son. Crimes committed by his creature were therefore entirely his fault. He had to fix what he had done. And get rid of this abomination.

* * *

Edward came home late, as usual. He did not even bother to walk on tiptoe to avoid waking his father, because the light was on in the living room. He walked into the room and could not do that before falling back, shoulders pierced by spikes in stone obviously created by alchemy. His father appeared in his field of vision, looking worried. He was holding a kitchen knife in his hand and transmutation circles were drawn on his hands.

"Can I know what you're doing, Dad?" Edward asked quietly, squinting because of pain.

"I'm getting rid of the one causing evil in this city."

The eyes of the blond opened like saucers.

"What? Do you think I'm the criminal? You're crazy! I'm your son!"

"I know what I have seen, and even if you're not aware of what you have done, if I let you go, you will continue to kill."

"Then I'm the monster, right?" Edward spat contemptuously. "It's beautiful, paternal love!"

"Edward, you became a monster…"

"I'm perfectly normal!"

"I saw you kill that guy in the street! You have stabbed him before pulling out his nails."

Edward's eyes widened, making him look like a deranged sadist in crisis dementia.

"Fine, I killed him. So what?"

Hohenheim became livid at the lack of remorse from his son.

"Why?"

"Because he was there, at my fingertips."

"Why did you start killing everyone you see? You were not so monstrous before."

"You can't understand. You're not like me."

The last sentence was out of Edward's throat, but it was not his voice. That voice was more acute, subtle and could have belonged to a man as a woman.

"Who are you?" Hohenheim asked, horrified.

"I'm your son!" said the real Edward.

"No, there is something in you that is not normal! Something you have!"

The blond stood for a moment thoughtfully.

"Ah! You mean Envy?"

"Envy?"

"Yes, he is a very good guy, he understands me better than anyone. Better than you, anyway."

"Is it the one who told you to kill these people?"

"Let's say that he suggested it. But I agreed, eh? He didn't force me to do it or something like that. He only opened my eyes."

"He driven you mad!"

"He showed me who I really am!"

"He made you a murderer!"

"Perhaps I've always been a murderer!"

Hohenheim sent a pained look on his only son.

"All of this because of the damn stone…"

"What?"

-At your birth, you barely breathed and I was afraid to see you die. So I used that a man had given me, an alleged Philosopher's Stone to bring you back to life. From that moment, you heal faster than others, you don't feel pain like us, you're faster… and you have a split personality. This Stone whack you."

"Never mind what! The Stone only exists in legends!"

Then doubt crept into Edward's mind.

"But on the other hand… that would explain the presence of Envy, and why only I can see him… Envy, is he right?"

"_Don't listen to him, he's only trying to disturb you._"

"But he told the truth?"

"._..Partly. I'm not bad. I just helped you show yourself to the world_."

"I killed people…"

"_They were worthless."_

"But I had no right to kill them…"

"Edward," encouraged Hohenheim. "You can ignore him; don't obey him. You are strong enough for that!"

Edward had a long shudder.

"I don't know…"

"You can do it! Close your mind to him!"

"_Ed, I forbid you...!"_

"Shut the hell up, Envy. Will you release me, Dad?"

The alchemist could not help but smile as finally finding his son. The real one, this time.

He destroyed the stone peaks and helped his son to recover. His skin was soon to close his wounds with a lot of red lightning.

"I thought it was normal…" Edward grumbled, before doubling over in a spasm.

"Edward! What the hell?"

When the boy looked up at him, his golden irises had turned deep purple. Seeing this, Hohenheim hastened to place both hands on the wall, conjuring up the wall piles sharp towards Edward, who slipped away with frightening ease. He made a wicked smile and chuckled when he grabbed Hohenheim by the neck and held him with one hand a few inches from the ground.

"Never told ya it was unwise to make a Homunculus angry, Papa?"

"Who...?" Hohenheim stammered, his face turning blue from lack of air.

"My name is Envy and I am your son's best friend. I am also the one who makes him be interesting… and funny. And I was to spare you for his sake…"

"Leave… my son alone!"

"Hmmm, let me think… no. You just had to think twice before injecting a powerful stone in the body of a baby, poor jerk. It's all your fault! But hey, humans are so selfish. You prefer sacrifice lives to save your son, so be it: I won't stop you. You allowed me to recover a body, that of your dear son, and I thank you because thanks to you, I can wreak havoc wherever I go and for many centuries to come… You see, it really pissed me off, being in the form of Stone in my bottle…"

"Why do you have forced him to...?"

"Kill? But for fun, of course! And then I had to get him used to kill his fellow, otherwise, after taking control over him, he would have spent his time whining and screaming at me… With me, he doesn't know any remorse. Well, of course, you blew it, and that's why I'm going to kill you too, but it doesn't matter. And I didn't force him. He listened with all his ears, this brave little boy! And I gave him a normal childhood, you will notice. Is it over, all these questions?"

Envy / Ed threw Hohenheim down and looked at him coughing for breath. He then changed his arm in stone blade and approached him slowly, savoring the expression of fear appeared on the blonde's face. He reached up and…

"No!" he yelled with Edward's voice.

The blond rubbed his forehead with a pained air, eyes ranging from purple and gold. He lowered his arm, pulled away from his father and stayed away for a moment, trying to put Envy in place, wise in his head. The Homunculus hissed of rage, but he could control him… momentarily.

His father was stationed at his side, ready to support him in battle, and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to study the phenomenon… We will find a solution to pull him away. If necessary, we will shut up your seizures… It just a way to destroy the Stone found…

Edward smiled, relieved…

…And pierced his father's heart with his freshly trimmed with sharp claws hand.

Blood spattered on the floor and Hohenheim fell to the ground at the feet of the man he had raised with love for all these years… his son, Edward. One for whom his wife had sacrificed. It did not take him long to bleed out.

It was at this moment that Envy, enjoying the shock Edward felt, took full control of the body that lived and laughed, Machiavellian. He took the appearance that Ed had dreamed, that of androgynous black hair and left the house without a backward glance. He broke a few gas lamps and left in its wake as fire, ashes and pain.

* * *

Centuries later, Envy, formerly Edward Elric, human-based Homunculus, watched the city below the building atop which filthy he was. He had a beautiful dream last night. He had dreamed of the past and still had tens of thousands of lives he had destroyed the meantime.

It remained so…

He was the worst breed the Earth has never worn.

He was Envy, the Homunculus.

* * *

_The End_

_That's it. It's still a story like "Envy manipulates Ed" but I like that kind. I got this idea while watching Narnia 3 and also the new film by Tom Hanks, there, where it is in several different eras ... Cloud Atlas…_

_(I apologize for any spelling mistakes ...) Thank you __**EvilKitten**__!_

_Review?_


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